


June Ficlets

by festivalofpudding (berreh)



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen, M/M, Multi-Era, One Word Prompts, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 12:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berreh/pseuds/festivalofpudding
Summary: Four unconnected ficlets fromTumblrprompts.





	1. First Aid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt - 'wisteria'

“Don’t y’all wreck my wisteria!” Sue hollers from the kitchen door. 

“We won’t, Mama,” Link calls back.

“Race ya to the fence,” Rhett says. Before Link can react, he takes off.

“Hey, wait! No fair!”

Link sprints after him, but at ten Rhett’s legs are nearly twice as long as his, and he’s across the property and at the back garden before Link can catch up. They slam into the back fence in a rain of honeysuckle blossoms, sending the blackberries rustling and the muscadines swinging.

From the house comes a faint yell: “ _Hey! I heard that!”_

They collapse together, red-faced and winded, sliding down the fence until their butts hit the clover and they clap both hands over their mouths to stifle the giggles.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” Link says.

“This ain’t the wisteria,” Rhett replies. He stretches his legs out, two skinny white sticks in the grass, and wipes his forehead. “It’s gettin harder to beat you.”

“I been runnin the track. You ain’t always gonna be bigger than me.”

“You wanna bet?”

Rhett shoves him and they start to wrestle against the fence, laughing, until Link gasps and pulls back his hand. On one fingertip is a tiny drop of blood, pricked by a blackberry bramble.

Link turns pale.

Rhett sticks an elbow in his ribs. “Hey man. Hey. That ain’t nothin. Look.” He turns and sticks his own hand into the bush, aimed right at a thorn, and holds up a matching pricked finger.

Link stares at the blood, and his lower lip quivers. Rhett grabs his hand and squeezes it, pumps it up and down in an exaggerated handshake. The two blood drops smear together and disappear. Link looks up at him, and grins. 

Rhett drops his hand, then picks a stray muscadine off the ground and eats it. Link wrinkles his nose in disgust, and they both bust out laughing. 

Scrambling to his feet, Link says: “Race ya to the wisteria.”


	2. Saturday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt - 'streetlight'

The intersection is empty: closed windows, Closed signs, red light stuck on yellow swinging in the wind. Every once in awhile a Chevy or Ram roars through – lift chrome flashing, muffled Skynyrd or Sawyer Brown, hooting and hollering – and then silence resumes. Other than that, nothing. Even the stray dogs have gone to bed.

There’s one streetlight that hasn’t been shot out, buzzing as it flickers in the heat. It gives the moths something to do, but its sickly yellow light barely reaches the weeds. One streetlight, one red light. One place to meet in the dead of night when it’s finally safe to sneak away from study and practice and church and drills.

If he sits behind the pole, facing the ditch, no one can see him waiting there in the dark with his elbows on his knees, slowly picking the fluff out of a cat-tail. Waiting for the sound of sneakers crunching through the grass behind the retention pond, cautious footsteps punctuated by soft smacks and whispers of  _ugh_ and  _oh gosh_. He grins. The mosquitoes are bad tonight.

He stands up so Link can see him, and Link sighs and stops where he is. He doesn’t like getting too close to the street. Rhett leaves the cat-tail in the grass where he'd been sitting and steps over the ditch to meet Link halfway. They smile at each other in the dark. 

Another truck roars by, squealing tires and squealing girls, too far off now to notice them. The intersection goes silent again as they turn and walk away together through the weeds. Halfway across the field, Rhett takes Link’s hand.


	3. Kinbaku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt - 'safe'

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes you can.”

“But if it hurts—”

“Do you trust me?”

“I—”

“Tell me you trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“Then trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. You’re safe with me. Alright?”

“…Alright.”

The rope moves slowly across Link’s body, coiling around joint and muscle, sliding over skin not yet slick with sweat until the last loop slips into place between his shoulder blades. Rhett’s fingers curl closed and the first knot pulls itself taut in a whisper of nylon against flesh. Link’s back tenses. He flexes his wrists, bound together at his sacrum, and closes his eyes.

“Tighter.”

He feels the ropes tremble in Rhett’s hands. A shaky breath, and the cords pull tighter. The second knot closes and snaps taut, jerking Link’s head back, stretching his shoulders until his mouth opens and his fists clench. His knees spread a little wider. The nylon creaks in time with his breathing. 

Rhett swallows audibly.

“Link? Are you alright? Talk to me, Link. Is it OK? Does it hurt?”

Link’s eyes are still closed. He shifts against the rope and smiles.

“I told you. You’re safe with me.”


	4. Late Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt - 'sunrise'

They’ve watched a lot of sunrises together.

At first Link would go for the classics, the big epic dawn scenes complete with sweeping cinematic flourish: Gandalf arriving at Helm’s Deep, Superman flying around the curve of the earth, Scarlett O’Hara swearing she’ll never go hungry again. He seemed to think Rhett would enjoy those more, find some kind of solace or meaning in them. But he soon learned Rhett actually prefers environmental films: BBC documentaries, NOVA episodes on PBS, Mother Nature unadorned and going about her daily business in all its beautiful simplicity. Rhett enjoys watching the world go on, as it always has and always will.  _The sun also rises_ , he’ll say, and grin. Mostly he just likes that Link thinks about these things.

Sometimes, sitting together on the couch in the darkened living room, watching another LCD day flicker and glow on the TV screen, Link will touch his hand and ask him softly: “Do you miss it?”

And Rhett will smile at him, sweetly indulgent, never condescending, and pull him in for a kiss. The truth is he couldn’t care less about the sun, but he loves how much Link wants to share it with him. He’ll kiss Link gently in the pixelated glow, just until he feels Link’s pulse begins to quicken - and then he’ll draw Link closer and whisper in his ear, letting the points of his fangs brush against the helix until Link shivers and goes boneless beneath him.

“I don’t miss a thing.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What he needs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11228214) by [heatgeneratingtechniques](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatgeneratingtechniques/pseuds/heatgeneratingtechniques)




End file.
